


The Lady Insists

by luckypixi



Category: Sherlock Holmes (Downey films)
Genre: Gen, Humour, ground rules, obnoxious Holmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1506602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckypixi/pseuds/luckypixi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Remember we discussed this?" "The lady insists". A missing scene from the 09' film. Just how did that discussion pan out, especially when Holmes interrupts Watson while he's working? Humour, no slash.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lady Insists

**Author's Note:**

> A missing scene, the 'discussion' between Holmes and Watson concerning not analysing Mary at dinner... the lady did insist. : )
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Onwards...

'Holmes, remember we spoke about you not coming into the surgery while I'm working...' Watson trailed off when he realised the man he was talking to wasn't listening to him at all.

Sherlock Holmes flapped his hand at John Watson, peering closely at the elderly woman sitting on Watson's couch, looking bewildered at the intrusion, turning to stare at the doctor. Mrs Nettle stared at Holmes, who put his hand on his chin, eyes narrowed. The detective had changed his attire from earlier that morning, now wearing a white shirt with his braces slung over his shoulders.

Watson simply sighed, looking at Holmes, who had not stopped scrutinising the woman in front of him.

Finally, Mrs Nettle spoke, uncomfortable at the close gaze the man in front of her was giving. 'I say, sir, do you mind?'

Holmes smiled broadly at the affronted woman, her horned rimmed glasses slipping off her face. He moved backwards in his chair, eyes still trained on her.

'Do you experience constant headaches?' he asked unexpectedly.

Mrs Nettle looked up at Watson, who put his hand on his hip and sighed again. 'It won't do not to answer the man.' He told her, looking back at Holmes. 'Would you like to continue or would you rather leave me to work?'

'I think I'd rather continue' he told the doctor, smiling as he looked back at Mrs Nettle. 'Do you wear those glasses often?'

Mrs Nettle sniffed. 'Yes, I wear them all the time.'

'Might I suggest limiting that use to when you read and write? I believe it will reduce your headaches if you're not looking through a strong lens everyday.'

Mrs Nettle looked at Watson, who peered at her closely, as Holmes had done before. He sniffed and looked at Holmes, whose eyebrows had risen.

'In your professional opinion, doctor?' he asked, smiling smugly.

Watson ignored him. 'In my professional opinion I suggest you wear your glasses only when you need to read or write as this will reduce your pressure headaches behind your eyes' He told Mrs Nettle, who nodded as the doctor gave his diagnosis. He pointedly ignored the smiling detective next to him.

'Thank you, Doctor.'

Watson stood up and escorted her out the room, Holmes watching from his seat. Once he was satisfied the woman was gone, he stood up and stretched out upon Watson's examination table, crossing his feet and closing his eyes. He smiled when he heard Watson step back in the room.

'Do you have to do that?'

Watson sighed and sat down on his own couch, watching Holmes as he sighed theatrically. 'I only studied her as I walked in, it's not my fault she answered my inquiry.'

Watson pinched his nose. 'I hadn't finished examining her when you walked in; I hadn't made a professional opinion yet.'

'On the contrary, good doctor, I studied your handwritten notes on the table as I walked in; you were halfway there.'

Watson, now used his friends deductive techniques of logic, simply sat further back in his chair, not resisting a smile in the other man's direction, which Holmes returned.

'Have you found a jacket for tonight yet, Holmes?' he asked tiredly, rubbing a hand over his face, welcoming the distraction Holmes had caused.

Holmes made a noise in the back of his throat and Watson threw him a look.

'Have you?'

'Indeed' agreed Holmes, looking thoroughly put out. He looked at Watson, who was studying him carefully. 'What is this woman like?' he asked, voice low.

Watson sighed, knowing this was coming. 'Mary is wonderful, witty, beautiful, thoughtful...' he trailed off yet again when he realised that Holmes wasn't listening to him.

'From my limited information.' Started the detective. 'I can deduce-'

'No!'

Watson stood up, holding out his hand. 'No, Holmes. Do not deduce a thing, I forbid it!'

'You forbid me from...deducing?' Holmes frowned at Watson, a grin spreading across his face.

Watson moved to sit on the examination table next to his friend, his expression serious. 'Yes, Holmes. You are not to analyse Mary, you must promise me.'

Holmes looked thoughtful. 'I don't think I can promise that, my dear Watson.' He watched the minute expressions cross Watson's face, from annoyance to acceptance and back to annoyance again.

Watson looked into his face, into those brown eyes that had seen so much. 'Then promise it for me...as my best friend, promise me that you won't do anything tonight that might upset Mary.'

Holmes leaned forwards, elbows resting on his knees. 'If I don't know anything about her, how do I know those boundaries?'

Watson sighed again, thinking that dealing with a small child might be easier. Holmes was just being difficult, and Watson knew it.

'Use your logical prowess to determine that when you see her, just don't upset her.'

'My logical prowess?' repeated Holmes, smiling. 'Thank you, Watson, I rather like that description of yours.'

'Good, you can have it, just promise me that.'

Holmes sighed, hopping off the table, turning back to look Watson. He walked forwards and placed his hands on Watson's knees.

'I promise not to deduce anything from your fiancé, who is blond, has a soft voice and prefers honey in her tea instead of sugar.'

Watson glared at him. 'What did I just say?'

'You said don't deduce anything about her when I see her; I haven't seen her yet.'

They both looked up when someone knocked on the door.

Watson pointed. 'Go, Holmes. Eight thirty, don't be late.'

'Yes yes, mother hen.' Holmes flapped his hand, turning on his heel.

Watson watched him go.

Time would only tell what the evening ahead of him held.

He just hoped Holmes would keep his promise.


End file.
